The Doctor's Merit
by Cheria
Summary: Shuuhei winds up in the 4th Division's care again for various reasons. Needless to say, Izuru is not happy with his frequent incapacitation.


"Hisagi-san, this isn't healthy for you."

Shuuhei shifts on his bed to face his speaker, although he is fully aware of who is doing the talking. Izuru is standing by the open door, a bucket with a towel tucked under his left arm, his right resting on the object. The look on his face is indescribable, a strange cross between a scowl and a concerned frown that tugs at the corners of his eyes, making him appear older than he physically should. But Shuuhei reminds himself that Izuru has always looked and acted like someone whose level of maturity is much higher than expected. He does an adequate job at hiding his feelings - adequate, but nothing too oustanding. Shuuhei can see through him most of the times.

"Kira," he greets with a nod. "I'm coping."

Izuru walks quietly over to the lieutenant, laying the bucket on the nightstand to his left as he takes a moment to examine Shuuhei. His gaze drops from the man's face all the way to his exposed right leg, which is lying on the bed sheet at an awkward angle. His eyes narrow at this and he perches at the foot of the bed, extending a hand to the broken leg when Shuuhei interrupts his action.

"It's fine." He cringes when Izuru puts a firm hand on his ankle.

The blond shakes his head. "No, it isn't."

That's his 4th nature kicking in, Shuuhei muses. Izuru is often docile and, to a degree, dainty, but whenever a patient is brought into the situation, he turns strict. Like any good doctor who knows what is best for his clients. And like any good doctor, when the patient starts to get unreasonable, he _gently_ coerces them into cooperating. However that works. Izuru is known to Shuuhei for numerous feats, and performing acts that would normally contradict is one of them.

Izuru sighs as he repositions his hand to caress the wounded leg, before quickly lifting it with efficiency and setting to work. "Honestly, Hisagi-san," he starts, "it's the second time this week. You're going to be living here at this rate."

"I wouldn't mind staying over all the time if you keep my company." As strange as it sounds, it's true. Izuru is the only one in the 4th Division he knows well enough to consider a real, genuine friend. The rest of the division are sweet and gentle, but they're not the same. He's considerably indifferent compared to when he manages with the blond, because he sees the others as medical assistants - nothing more, nothing less. But he's known Izuru for decades, and it's the temporal bond shared by the two that make one another specia -

- _ow_.

"Kira," he grunts, "you're squeezing too hard." He hears a muffled apology from Izuru as the blond continues to redo the bandages around the scabbed leg.

"You hurt it really bad this time. I imagine that it'll take a while before you can walk again. _Kidou_ will only make it heal the wrong way," Izuru explains in an attempt to soothe Shuuhei's worries over the ugly look of his appendage.

Good. Amputation is not going to happen.

Despite Izuru's attempts at comforting him, however, Shuuhei scowls. No matter who it's coming from, doctorly speeches always sound painful. Sadly this is one flaw Izuru cannot help nor remedy, as it is a permanent reaper in the land of souls. No one wants to hear about how their operation will go, or if there are any remote chances of their body healing the wrong way. It makes the patient anxious and twitchy, and Shuuhei knows he's already nearing that point when he notices his left eye involuntarily moving at a rapid tempo. Fingers he can handle, but he dislikes it when his eyes start twitching - it makes him somewhat dizzy.

"-agi-san. Hisagi-san."

Shuuhei blinks before registering what has just happened. Izuru is finished with tying his leg up properly to let it rest peacefully in the air. He's been droning out the other's words without noticing, he realizes, and Shuuhei feels a pang of remorse for having ignored his friend. He already sees the forgiveness in his eyes though, and is relieved. Izuru is the forgiving type if he knows you understand what the problem is. And Shuuhei always comes to understand, sooner or later. Except he often doesn't end up following through his promises of being careful in his next missions... it's not his fault some of his subordinates have the tendency to charge in recklessly or try to play hero (which Shuuhei considers ridiculous: they're treating it like a game and it nags at him, because he's actually _properly_ "played" hero a couple decades back).

"My bad, did you say something?" Shuuhei looks up at Izuru, who stands and shakes his head.

"Just watch out next time once you're released," he says. He receives an affirmative nod in response. "I have a few more patients to tend to. I'll be back before long."

And with those five words, he's gone for the night. Shuuhei knows he'll be back the instant he decides to hit the sack - fate has something against him and timing.

With nothing in particular to eye, he shifts again when a sudden clank alerts him. He immediately whips around to the source of the sound, instantly regretting his movement as his body whines and protests. After willing the pain away he focuses, only to notice something solid repeatedly hitting the window and effectively bouncing right off. It's coming from the sky, he notes. Funny, Shuuhei thinks, for it was relatively sunny earlier. The weather is awfully unorthodox today.

* * *

"I'm back."

Shuuhei shoots a friendly smile in Izuru's direction. "Welcome back."

There's a faint hint of a smile on that exhausted face of his, and Shuuhei knows he's been working overtime again. Izuru is diligent - _too_ diligent. He wouldn't get on his case about it though; Izuru is a grown man and knows how to take care of himself. And he's in no condition, nor does have the right, to be lecturing the blond on how to look after his body. Izuru is not the one with a funny leg that wobbles with even the slightest pressure put on it.

There is an awkward moment of silence, and Shuuhei is not one for the tense atmosphere that looms over the room. He's certain the other _shinigami _with him feels the same, and decides to be the initiator this time around.

"The sleet's not letting up."

"Does it bother you? I can tune out the sound if the curtains aren't enough." No, Shuuhei does not want Doctor Izuru. He wants to talk to Izuru. Simply Izuru.

"It's all right, it just caught me by surprise when it started. There were no warnings or signs," he responds, waving a carefree hand as Izuru nods absentmindedly. The movement is slightly rigid though, and Shuuhei spots this with ease. Izuru is usually so uptight, even the slightest jarring is enough to tell anyone with a careful eye that something is up. "What's bothering you?"

Izuru takes a moment to contemplate, possibly on whether to tell him or not. Shuuhei predicts the former; they're alone and it's time for some more bonding. It won't hurt him to spill whatever it making him stressed or putting him on edge. What he doesn't expect is Izuru's moment of truth, because the answer makes his eyes bulge and breath hitch.

"You."

"_Me_? What did I do?" He's genuinely confused, backtracking everything he has said and done in the day to find out what in Soul Society Izuru is referring to. He doesn't have to venture far back into the past, because the blond does him the favor of quickly adding an explanation.

"You're not the reckless type, Hisagi-san," he sighs. "Yet you're one of the frequent visitors to this place, and by force. This can't keep up."

"Yeah," Shuuhei releases a breath he's been holding without really noticing. "Yeah, I know. But I can't guarantee coming out unscathed in my next task, Kira. It doesn't work that way."

Smooth, Shuuhei. He's been worrying Izuru this whole time and only fully captures the mood when it's spelled out for him. Shuuhei isn't the most bright person around, but he's certainly not the slowest either. His level of thinking is far above average, although not too off the charts. Yet he's completely missed the look of concern that now appears to be an infection on the blond's face. He doesn't understand how he couldn't have seen it earlier - it's so _prominent_.

"I know it doesn't, but you've been severely injured for the past few missions. It's not you most of the time."

"It is. Looking out for my comrades is a duty of mine."

"You're so sacrificial," Izuru blurts.

Shuuhei chuckles, motioning for the blond to sit beside him on the bed. "It's the way I am. You're the same, you know." At this his speaking partner raises a brow, questioning his remark in a way that is rare to see in Izuru. "Take now for instance. Shouldn't you be at the barracks, resting?"

He immediately receives an automatic response. "There are still some patients that are in need here."

"Right, and that's your duty. My duty is to look out for my division. You understand, don't you, Kira?"

There's a pause as Izuru reviews what he has said. First an uncertain nod, then one that is sure and confident of the statement as he turns to sit on the edge of the bed, eying Shuuhei. "Yes. I see what you mean."

The dark-haired _shinigami_ grins. "Good. Now let me sleep Kira, and you should do the same." He's not being pushy. Not in the slightest, Izuru knows he's allowing him his well deserved respite after having worked himself to the point of exhaustion. Izuru nods again, although it is far more lazily this time without the intention of trying to hide his fatigue, and departs for the door. "And no taking detours, or finding an excuse to wander around. Really, you need to sleep. You have bags under your eyes."

The blond beams as he leans against the frame of the entrance. "I don't intend to." He lamely shoots back, unable to break out of his habit of being formal to properly retort with something ludicrous. Shuuhei only waves his hand again.

"I'll hold you to your word then. Go to sleep - I'm going to check with the others tomorrow morning." Whatever Izuru says next is incoherent as the door closes, muffling the blond's voice, although the faint chuckle is incredibly difficult to miss and extremely distinct, even with thick walls blocking away most of the sound.

Sighing contently, Shuuhei shifts carefully on his bed, making sure not to bend his leg too much. He closes his eyes, but shortly opens them after a while, a glint of suspicion flashing by as he pushes himself up. The room is comforting, the atmosphere halcyon. It's much too welcome and enduring to the point Shuuhei moves his head to the right and notices the change he didn't pick up earlier. There is no tapping at the window, no audio of a solidified object bouncing off of the glass or even hitting the ground.


End file.
